My Guilty Smile
by Blood.Drop.Lolita
Summary: Basically the story of Ramon Salazar stretches over a course of five years, from the point where he meets Saddler to his death. Its sure to be a bit different from other Ramon life fics you've read.
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: I don't own Resident Evil or and of its characters. _Capcom_ owns them; sad for me. T.T I wish I could own a Salazar chibi… one can only dream.

Summary: Story of Ramon Salazar; starts from the point where he meets Saddler and is brainwashed into thinking as the cult does, and carries on from there.

**My Guilty Smile**

Young Ramon Salazar sat by the large bay window and stared out longingly at the children playing. He wished he could be one of those children; being able to get dirty, play stick ball, perhaps make a few friends. But no. He was never allowed to have any fun. Royalty such as himself shouldn't be degraded to playing with such urchins. But he wanted to be one of those urchins who could go outside when they pleased.

He was pale in complexion, and his paleness was further emphasized by his raven hair. From under the dark bangs peered a set of burning topaz eyes, those of which pierced the soul of anyone who gazed into them. His growth had been stunted; there were theories, but no one was certain why a perfectly healthy boy would just stop growing. When drawn up to full height, he was a pitiful 4' 10".

Ramon sighed and pushed himself away from the window. He stared at the elegant Persian carpet that spread itself around his room's floor. Perhaps it _was _best that he stay inside. He remembered that just recently he had ventured outside on his own, in hopes of trying to be normal. But, seeing his fancy clothing and pale complexion the other children had singled him out as the freak and an outsider and refused to play with him, even if he was royalty. He remembered how he had been persistent and ended up getting his ass pounded by a few of the older boys in the village. When ever he went outside for a stroll he went at night when there were no children around to push him down and call him names.

Ramon impatiently glanced at the large grandfather clock that tocked lazily in the barren room that contained himself, a desk, the clock, and a large four poster bed. He listened to that clock tick and tock for hours on end because if at least produced _some _noise, as which was opposite for the rest of the estate.

Salazar turned back to the window and propped his elbows up on the desk and rested his chin against the palm of his hand. His parents had died a few years ago, when he was twelve, which was one of the theories as to why his growth had been stunted. He had been basically left by himself, because he had no other family. Numerous servants occupied the estate, but there was only one that Salazar would even consider family.

Don Ramirez had served the Salazar family for decades, and it was apparent he was going to serve for many decades to come. Ramon wasn't sure of his age, but he had to be pushing seventy. He didn't act seventy; he acted something more like thirty. Ah, but nevertheless Ramon was just happy to have someone around whom he had even the slightest connection with.

He hadn't realized it, but he had been sitting there in that same seat and staring at that same patch of sky so long that it was no longer a crystal blue, but now a milky grey; the sky was flecked with dark patches of darkening clouds.

The fifteen year old must have been staring off for at least three hours.

He had grown restless, and when he rose from his seat his knees and joints cracked and were, at first, unwilling to cooperate with their master's commands.

"I really need to get a life…" Salazar mumbled and stretched, his joints giving a few more pops of defiance.

"Mayhaps you should take a walk then, sir?" Don's voice came from inside the doorway. "This time of evening is particularly lovely, and the roads are virtually vacant."

That was true. The air was crisp and the roads were not lined with _Ganados_, "cattle"; what he referred to the villagers as, and their livestock. Most were closing up for the evening to have dinner with their families and do whatever else families did.

"That sounds nice enough…"

"Shall I get your coat then, sir?" Don said on cue.

"Hm?" Salazar turned his head towards the door; it took a moment for the words to register.

"Oh. No. That's fine; I'll get it."

Don nodded and stepped aside for his young master to get his coat from one of the many closets.

He chose a calf-length, on anyone else it would have been a thigh-length, coat that was tinged a purplish colour.

Don cocked an eyebrow.

"What?" Salazar quipped as he slid his arms though the sleeves.

"Just curious, sir, as to why you chose _that _colour?"

Salazar looked down at himself, then back up at Don with a small, self-satisfied grin on his face.

"Don't you think it makes me looks taller?"

Don held back a snort of laughter and paused before agreeing.

"…yes. I supposed it does."

"I figured since black or any of the primary colours make things look smaller, I would try to adorn shades that make things stand out."

"I… follow your logic sir." Don said, half-truthfully. If you wanted to stand out in this country, then just wear white, considering most wore dingy shades of grey, brown, and teal that blended in with the surroundings. But, purple also worked.

"…but I thought you just wanted to blend in?"

Salazar paused, his hand resting on the door handle.

"At night, we all blend into the dark. At night, we are all the same."

"Deep." Don said simply.

"Yep. I'll be back in about an hour; I heard it was supposed to storm tonight and I really don't want to get caught in it."

Don nodded and resisted the urge to make a smart comment concerning the rain and his height.

"Have a nice stroll, Mr. Salazar."

o0o0o0o

The air was very cool and clear, as it was nearing autumn. Orange and red leaves scattered the ground, and a few even clung to their branches, refusing to fall off. The sky was grey and cluttered with heavy black clouds that seemed so low you could reach up and touch them. That was the illusion produced by a fairly flat landscape.

He had to dodge a few cow patties, and came very close to stepping in one that blended in with a shadow cast by a tree. He muttered a few curse words about the villagers and their filthy cattle.

"They are meant to give milk and be eaten… not led along the road so they can shit everywhere." He glared at the ground, the peaceful atmosphere obviously being broken. Now he just felt angry and wanted to lash out at one of the servants. Lashing out at one of the villagers would wind him up with another broken nose.

He really didn't like that Sera. That pretty boy was always showing off for the ladies, and found it would up his popularity by busting the _freak's _nose. Salazar didn't even know that much blood could come out of your nose. He held that against Luis Sera, which wasn't surprising. Romon had a bad habit of holding grudges. Even if he couldn't remember what they were for, he would hold it against the person if he could remember who they were.

The biggest grudge he held was against his parents, though, for leaving him alone. Luis was second in line.

His thoughts were broken when his shoe came in contact with something soft. Stepping on said soft object caused it to release a foul odor. He scowled; lucky for him he had barley stepped on it; he mumbled incoherent curses the entire time he scrapped his shoe off on a nearby rock.

"Disgusting." He said shrilly after finishing. His lip curled to match his disdain. And as an added bonus, his walk was cut short by a thunderclap and a light mist, which quickly changed over into a drizzle, began to form.

"…of course."

He now wished he had brought an umbrella with him.

The rain was cold and froze his skin instantly on contact. He was walking in it for several minutes, his feet and hands already numb, when the onslaught of cold ceased. Ramon looked up and found Don holding a black umbrella.

"You seemed to forget this, sir, and you seemed to be off on your time estimate."

Salazar smirked, but was deeply touched that Don would come out in this freezing rain just to deliver an umbrella to him. It was apparent he had been using it until finding his young master and handing it over to him.

"It seems I was… Perhaps tomorrow will fair better for me."

"Perhaps. I heard it is supposed to be bleak and cloudy, but it is not supposed to rain tomorrow. But, just incase, young master, I suggest you take an umbrella?"

"Heh. We'll see what the day holds."

**End chapter one**

Izzy: This chapter was more of an intro, because something interesting happens in the next and the plot is set there. Ah, please stick around for the next chapter. And 'member, reviews are always smiled upon. (:


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2**

Today Ramon was not to be found in his room, or private study as he called it. Nor was he to be found in the dining hall, the observatory, or any of the places contained within the castle walls. Instead, he was found wandering the maze that was his garden.

It was beautiful; tall, thick, green hedges so full of life, their shade making it a comfortable cool, and fountains with the statues of "lady drawing water" added to the serene atmosphere. He would wander around this maze to help him gather his thoughts, or just to enjoy a stroll. Because here he could stay out as long as he wanted. Only downside- he did get lost in here sometimes; he would wander around for so long he would lose his bearings.

But he did always manage to find his way out, even if that meant creating a new path through the overly lush hedges. He had lost quite a many coats to the shrubs, and sometimes on his strolls though the winding maze he would come across a torn fabric that was once one of his jackets. Ramon would muse over it for a moment, recollecting the event, then carrying on and allowing himself to indulge in his thoughts.

He was not here today to gather his thoughts; he was merely enjoying the outside, because today was nice, just as Don had said it would be. The overcast made the maze look different; the green hedges did not look like their friendly green, but a deep rich hunter. He planned to go on a walk later this afternoon, after the Ganados closed up shop, of course.

He brought a thick, leather-bound book out with him. He had found it in the lowest basement of the estate some years ago, but had never gotten the urge to look through its pages until today. It was apparently handwritten and was very old, because some of the ink had begun to fade and the pages were stained yellow and they were brittle. The front cover said something that he could not decipher, because he was not familiar with the symbols; the unfamiliarity is what caught his eye in the first place. The actual book was written in Spanish, but not very easy to follow.

It discussed the events of the Las Plagas, and ancient race of parasitic beings. Some viewed these monsters as aliens, but most as leeches. Salazar remembered his father telling him tales of the Las Plagas and how they caused so much hardship and destruction. Ramon was told how his grandparents from centuries past managed to contain the Plagas in a fossilized form. His father also told him, that no matter what, he should never go seeking the Plagas and he should never release them from containment.

"_**If you won't do it for the people of the village, than at least do it for your mother and me. You don't want us turning over in our graves, do you?" **_

His father's chuckled echoed in his head and it made his heart tighten. He missed them, and right now this book was making his nostalgia worsen. Ramon sat there with the thick book perched on his lap, his hands absent-mindedly running over its reddish leather surface. He traced the bumpy pattern with his fingertips as his mind drifted off to when his parents were still living.

His mother's beautiful smile and her soft brown eyes that resembled those of a doe. She had always found a way to make him smile and always found time for him. His father, unintentionally neglectful, was a man of stature. Salazar sr. stood at an even six foot, and his mother at an average five foot five.

Ramon, however, had inherited neither his parents' height. He had inherited his mother's pale skin and his father's wit…

He sighed and pushed the book off his lap, allowing the book to settle in a dark shadow. Perhaps if he forgot about the book then this feeling would forget him; there was a heaviness settling down in his stomach and it was giving him the urge to vomit.

"Perhaps I ought to take that walk now…" Ramon looked up at the sky. It was getting darker. It was deceiving, though; the overcast made it look later than it already was.

"I'll take my chances."

_o0o0o0o_

"Enjoy yourself, sir?" Don chirped lightly upon seeing his master's presence.

"Not really." Salazar shrugged and drew his hair back into a ponytail before carrying on to the grand hall. Don followed him.

"You're leaving earlier than usual."

"What time is it?" Ramon blinked back at Don.

"It's a quarter to five, sir. You normally don't go on your evening stroll until closer to eight."

"Well… extenuating circumstances…" He trailed off.

"Sir…?"

"I'll be back in an hour. I need to clear my head." Salazar said simply and made an attempt to smile. Don gazed at him skeptically and nodded. Salazar pulled the heavy door and stepped outside into the crisp autumn air; it made his nostalgia disappear almost instantly and he smiled to himself.

Salazar made his way down the small, closely lined steps. It was actually quite a funny sight- a small person such as himself scuttling down the long flight. Don said his young master skipped when going down the small stairs. Perhaps it was just the quickness of pace that made his descent so humourous.

_o0o0o0o_

Ramon noticed something queer about the dirt road; there were no cow patties or signs of business. Since he had left a good three hours earlier than he normally did, there still should have been some stragglers closing up shop or trying to herd a stubborn bull back into town. Perhaps even a few vendors still open.

But there was no one. No chicken feathers, cow patties, cores of apples or a few pesetas that were dropped by an unfortunate soul.

As he continued onward he noticed a gathering several yards away. He had to squint to see the figure upon the stage. As he moved closer, he noticed there were _two _figures upon a rickety wooden stage, and said stage was surrounded by a fair gathering of people. One of the figures was easy enough to spot- the village chief, Bitores Mendez. Legally a giant, he could be spotted in any crowd. His bald head and long beard were also easily distinguishable. Even though the man seemed bitter, he had a good heart.

But the other man… Salazar had never seen him before. Any by the wary looks Bitores was giving him, neither had be. Salazar moved ever closer for a better view. He stopped a few feet from the village and took refuge in a shadow. He could clearly hear what was being said, and he was in no danger of getting his ass kicked. Just to be certain, though, he scanned the area until his eyes landed on Luis Sera. He was not showing off, but he actually seemed interested in what was being said by the stranger. Salazar then focused on the stranger.

A bit chubby, he looked to be in his early thirties. His hair was a dark brown and slicked back, and he had a self-confident look about him. Pride, to better described it. When he spoke, you could _hear_ the smug smirk on his face.

Salazar narrowed his eyes. The symbol around the man's neck looked so familiar. He wondered if he was supposed to be one of those missionaries. Ramon chuckled silently and thought to himself,

_I wish you luck; Roman Catholicism runs strong in this village._

"By the gracious honour of your village chief, I have been bestowed with the power of the village priest…"

The crowd began to murmur, some in disdain, some in approval.

Salazar blinked in confusion. They already _had_ a village priest…

"What of Father Perez?" One of the villagers spoke up angrily.

"…excommunicated." Mendez said quietly.

"Why?" Another villager challenged.

"For actions unbecoming a man in his position."

The crowd then fell silent. They knew better than to press the subject. The giant, even though gentle, was known to have a nasty attitude when pushed; and by 'nasty attitude', it was implied crushing someone's skull.

"What do you call yourself?" The first villager said.

"My name is Osmund Saddler. Trust me; I will bring you all to unity."

"We don't want unity." Another barked, "Not by your hands."

That was the villagers for you. Even though Saddler was of Spanish descent, he was still a stranger, and they took very unkindly to strangers. They did not want a man that they had never heard nor seen before to be the leader of their religious activities; that was one of the few things they had going for them.

Salazar drew back further into the shadows. This man was going to lead their village church… He glanced back at the man on the stage, and instantly regretted it.

His movements caught the eyes of Saddler and he turned his head in Salazar's direction.

Mendez followed Saddler's gaze and grunted when he caught sight of Salazar. The boy's curiosity would be his downfall, Mendez was sure of that. Being in enemy territory with your enemies already riled…

Not a good idea.

The villagers had not noticed, thankfully. They were all too busy being pissed off about their new priest.

"Then I hope to see you all tomorrow evening for service." Saddler said awkwardly and made his way off the stage.

Salazar scuttled back behind the barn he took refuse beside and quickly made it back up the hill he had scurried down. Something about that man wasn't right; even from a distance he was able to see that. He had been mistaken; the chief was familiar with this Saddler, but it was apparent he did not trust him, either.

Ramon stopped suddenly once he was over the horizon.

"Why would Mendez appoint a man he did not like?"

There were so many qualified people in the village… hell, why didn't Mendez just do it himself?

_o0o0o0o_

"Tell me something, Bitores…" Saddler said boredly once they were in the confines of their estate. The metal door shut loudly behind them.

"Who was that boy? The one skulking in the shadows?'

"That would be Ramon Salazar." Mendez replied hesitantly.

"…I see. And why is it he was skulking around? Royalty such as himself--"

"Like you, he is viewed as an outcast in this village. His high status has cost him acceptance."

"Isn't that a pity." Saddler said in fake sympathy.

Mendez narrowed his eyes,

"Yes. It is."

"The Salazar estate… it is still a few miles over those hills?"

"…Si."

"Ah… interesting." Saddler muttered.

Mendez said nothing and exited to go to the upper room. The chief felt a twinge of guilt, which was rare. He knew that soon their whole way of life was going to change, and he was vaguely aware of how Osmund was intending to obtain this change.

_o0o0o0o_

Ramon trucked up the hills with ease. Saddler kept playing on his mind, mainly the golden pendent hanging from the man's neck. It was not a crux, and that was enough to make Salazar suspicious.

"I told you to stay out of our village, freak."

A small rock made contact with Ramon's temple and he uttered an incoherent obscenity. He stopped and glared hatefully at the thrower.

"I'm not _in_ your village, so leave me alone!" Ramon paused before asking, in the same harsh tone,

"Why've you always singled me out? Aw, are you jealous, Sera? Or perhaps you like me? I've always heard that little girls like to pick on boys they like!"

Luis grunted. Being called a girl was a blow to his pride; it didn't help that he had longer hair than most girls in the village.

"What is there to be jealous of? You make me sick, you freak! I'm _protecting _everyone by keeping you the hell _away_ from them."

"I have no intentions of destroying you and your precious Ganados--"

"Oh, I know more than you think. You and your freak pets. The walking Plague, I know all about that."

Salazar allowed his confusion to show through, as well as his surprise.

"You're wrong--"

"I'm not stupid."

"Apparently, you are." Salazar retorted and turned from Luis and resumed walking.

"Next time I see you in our village, I'll throw you into the manure bin!" Luis hollered after him.

Salazar shrugged and, uninterruptedly, made his way home.

_o0o0o0o_

"Salazar is just what I need, Mendez…" Saddler said coyly.

"Think about it. He has more money than God, and he's naïve to boot. He's perfect!"

"Osmund--"

"I will go see him myself tomorrow." Saddler added as if Mendez has said nothing.

_Playing on his insecurities will help me to rope him in that much faster, and I can finally begin the spread of unity, as well as resurrect Los Illuminados… _

**End chapter 2**

**(A/N): **Next chapter will be up soon. Sorry if it lagged there for a bit, my muse kinda died but I wanted to get this finished so I could begin work on chapter three. Danke for the reviews… Yes, yes it will get more interesting.


	3. Chapter 3

**(A/N): **ARGH! _I was working on this chapter and my computer crashed! I had to start from scratch. Didn't make me happy. _DX

_I hope it's still as good._

**Chapter 3**

"Good morning, sir." Don said brightly as his young master entered the kitchen, still wearing his pajamas. That was one thing that made Don happy about Ramon; he still acted like a regular teenage boy, even if he was a bit awkward.

"What would you like for breakfast?"

"Erm… I'm not really hungry."

Don went over to the counter and poured a glass of orange juice, then offered it to Ramon.

"Not sleep well, sir?" He said, hinting at the dark circles underneath his maser's eyes.

Ramon accepted the glass and took a small sip out of it, shaking his head while doing so.

"You don't look well; perhaps you should go lie down and try to rest."

"I just got up."

"But you didn't rest." Don corrected.

"I don't want to rest."

"If you don't, then you'll end up breaking down." Don studied him.

"There's more to it."

"…every time I tried to go to sleep I saw my parents die." He said quietly. And awkward silence filled the room and Don patted Ramon on the head gingerly.

"If you would like, you can have ice cream for breakfast." Don mused. Salazar chuckled slightly and gave a small smile.

"There's the Ramon I know." Don grinned broadly. He opened his mouth to speak again, but his words were cut off by the ringing of the doorbell.

"Were we expecting company?" Salazar asked and looked up at Don. The man shook his head.

"No, not that I know of."

"Wull… what time is it?"

"It's well after one, sir." Don heard the bell ding again and sighed.

"Excuse me."

Salazar heard the bell ring again.

"I'm _coming_!" Don shouted at the door. Ramon chuckled and tucked a few strands of jet black hair behind his ear. It was down, as he often slept with it that way; the only time he put his hair back was when he was going out in public. To be honest, from behind, one could easily mistake him for a girl.

He was contemplating the ice cream offer when Don's voice was calling from the grand hall.

"Master Salazar! There is someone here who wishes to see you."

Salazar looked down at himself; barefoot and jade pajama bottoms and a button up top, as well as bed head. Ramon shrugged; he didn't feel like taking the time to get himself presentable.

"Ah. Sir." Don smiled at Salazar, who was carrying his half full glass of orange juice. Ramon nearly dropped the glass on the fine marble when he realized who his visitor was.

"My name is Osmund Saddler. And you must be young Salazar."

Ramon discarded his manners and turned to Don,

"Why is he here?'

"I'm not certain, but you're not being very polite."

"Perhaps we should move to a more comfortable area--"

"No, this is fine." Salazar said sharply. He didn't want this man any further in his house than he already was. Osmund had no right to be here.

"Sir." Don addressed Ramon in the same sharp tone.

Saddler chuckled darkly.

"That is fine. Ah, youth. Such defiance."

"Get to the point." Salazar said impatiently.

"Very well. You see, I am new to this village and I have nowhere to stay; the villagers view me as an outsider and do not trust me."

"Then why would Mendez appoint you head priest if the other villagers did not agree with his decision?" Don asked curiously.

"Because in time, they will grow to trust me. But back to the reason I came here… I have no place to stay--"

"Yes you do. There is specific lodging for the priest; the building right of the Belfry."

"Ah, but young Salazar, the villagers do not want me to stay there. Who knows what those ignorant farmers could do?" When Salazar said nothing he continued, "I was wondering if I might be able to set up residence here."

"No." Ramon said flatly, "Mendez provides you with lodging, not me."

"I understand." Saddler said lightly, "I'll be on my way then."

Salazar said nothing and turned to leave. He made swift exit out of the hall.

"I'm terribly sorry; he never behaves that way--"

"It's alright. I understand, I was a young person once, too, you know." Saddler chuckled. Don gave a sigh of relief and a small smile.

"Would you like to stay for lunch? You must be famished."

"It would be an honour." Osmund nodded and smiled.

"Erm… great, then make yourself at home. Again, excuse the young master. He has not been well lately." Don said softly.

"E-excuse me…"

Don bowed slightly and went back to the kitchen to request the chef to prepare lunch.

Saddler smirked once Don was out of sight. His plan was folding together.

_Now… to find the boy._

_o0o0o0o_

Ramon sighed and slumped against the wall. He hadn't meant to be so rude… well, he had, but not to that extreme. He knew it embarrassed Don, and he felt embarrassed himself.

Lack of sleep made him edgy. He rubbed a sleepy out of his eye. He wanted, no _needed_, to be alone for a while. He needed to be with his thoughts.

It was too cold to sit outside today, and he was sick of being stuck in his room, so he decided on the library. It was quiet and there were books there to keep his mind distracted, if need be. He wouldn't be seeking the luxuries of knowledge, just that of solitude.

As he entered the large room he was hit with the smell of paper and leather. It was relaxing. The smooth floor was cold against his bare feet and they smacked against the floor as he walked his small steps over to a desk furthest away from the door.

It had been the desk that his father always took when seeking his own solitude to resolve some internal matter. Ramon could see why; no sound reached the back of the room where the desk was located and there was a window as wide as the desk that allowed one to gaze out at the shore. It was also the darkest part of the room; even though there was a window, it faced opposite the sun so it received no natural sunlight, giving it a comfortable cool all year round.

He sat down in the plush chair and allowed himself to sink into it. Ramon was careful to sit his glass far away from the edge of the table; he didn't need anymore spills. He closed his eyes as he reclined in the chair, letting his thoughts free.

"This is a nice place you have here."

Salazar jumped like he had been shot. So much for relaxation.

He adjusted himself to his knees so he could peer over the back of the chair, and was met with the amused face of Osmund.

"What the hell are you doing in here? I told you 'no'."

"I'm just looking for a conversation. It gets mighty lonely when you have no one to talk to… no one to relate to."

Salazar glared half-heartedly at the man and said nothing. He couldn't say anything, because Saddler was right.

"I figured a boy your age would have better things to do than sit in a cold library all day. When I was younger, you couldn't pay me enough to read a book. I hated reading." Saddler ran his hand over a series of books.

"I actually still detest it."

"You just haven't read the right book." Salazar said awkwardly.

"You might have something there." Saddler nodded. He studied Salazar a moment before asking,

"What exactly are you doing in here?"

"What does it look like I'm doing?" He scoffed.

"Escaping from reality." Saddler said simply.

Ramon gave a small smirk and rested his arms on the back of the chair and his chin on his arms. He stared at the floor with disinterest.

"What are you still doing here?"

"I've been invited for lunch." Osmund pipped. He selected a book off of the shelf he was lingering by and flipped through it.

"No pictures." He shook his head.

"If there are no pictures, then it's not a book."

"Picture books are for those who lack creativity and imagination." Salazar said softly. He enjoyed being philosophical and it made his smirk widen when he saw that Osmund was impressed.

"Touché. But pictures in books are what help to build said creativity." Saddler countered.

"Men your age should be able to read a book without pictures in it."

Saddler chuckled dryly,

"And what should men my age be reading?"

Salazar shrugged.

"I don't know. Why don't you tell me what a man nearing his forties would read?"

Saddler cocked an eyebrow,

"Forties? You're off."

"Mid Thirties?"

"Still off."

Salazar shrugged.

"Twenty eight."

"I don't believe you."

"You are a poor judge of age." Saddler mused.

"Well, you look forty." Salazar said bluntly and glanced up at Saddler,

"What's the real reason you came here? I know you didn't come to this village because God summoned you."

"Aren't you a smart cookie?" Osmund placed the book back on its shelf.

"Alright. I see that you are one of those stubborn mules who are not satisfied until they hear what they want to hear. I came here because I was hoping to promote a strong sense of unity."

Saddler strode over to Salazar and bent down somewhat so they were eye level.

"How much do you know about your ancestors?"

**End chapter 3**

**(A/N): **It was originally longer, but I decided to save a bit for chapter 4. Next chapter you get a history lesson 'bout the Plagas, through Saddler's opinions. Hopefully my bloody computer won't crash again.


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter 4**

"That is none of your business." Salazar said darkly. He was taken aback by such a bold statement.

"I answered your question, now you answer mine. Are you familiar with the Las Plagas?"

"And if I am?"

"I know a great deal about these creatures. Your family has quite an interesting… and _sinful_ past." Saddler continued.

"…are you stalking me or something?" Salazar said warily. Saddler chuckled and shook his head.

"Then… why are you researching a family that is not your own? More importantly, _mine_."

"Because the history of the Salazar family is interesting. Oh poor souls… Do you have any idea of the degree of sin your great grandfathers committed?"

"No…" Salazar dropped his gaze, but quickly locked back onto Saddler.

"What… can you tell me about them?"

"Ah, I could inform you on a great deal. But seeing as you are so mistrusting…" Saddler drew himself back to full height.

Salazar felt torn. He wanted to know what this man, this stranger, knew about his family. It gave him the "cold creepies" thinking about it; this stranger researching his entire family line back to… and then he remembered what said just moments ago.

"It's about the Plagas."

"Indeed. The creatures of unity." Saddler nodded.

"That's not what I heard."

"And what have you heard of the Plagas?"

"That they are destroyers; the 'walking plague'. They tear people and apart, not bring them together--"

"You were severely misinformed." Saddler interrupted.

"No, I don't think my father would lie to me." Salazar said dangerously. Saddler knew better than to tread into that territory; if he ever wanted to rope this boy in, then he would have to play into his hand and by his rules… until the time being.

"It is possible he got his information misconstrued…"

"I doubt that. He researched it himself."

"Your father was a scientist?"

"Not what you would call a 'scientist'… maybe something more of curious by nature."

"Interesting." Saddler faked interest. He grinned inwardly; this child was so starved for human interaction that he was an open book. He gave large quantities of information in just a few words.

"Tell me about your father."

"He was tall and intelligent. Everyone loved him. He was always composing something for my mother…" Salazar trailed off and shrugged. It was apparent he wished to not continue on that subject.

"What did you hear about the Plagas?"

"The creatures you refer to as 'the plague' are actually quite the opposite. They are harmonious and know not the ways of mortals. In other words, these creatures lack violent tendencies and other human emotions. Your ancestors desecrated a placid world by fossilizing the Plagas. They dismantled the tamers of these beasts, as well- Los Illuminados. Salazar, do you know that for the first few centuries of your bloodline, your great grandfathers lived in harmony with these creatures?" Saddler shook his head,

"It is a true pity."

"I don't understand how it is a sin." Salazar said finally.

"The broke world peace; your father and mother, they sinned so greatly by keeping the truth of the Plagas away from you; they promoted for sin to continue as it is in the world. That is the greatest sin of all. Do you understand that you, too, are sinning greatly because you allow the world to suffer? I'm surprised God hasn't killed you, too." Saddler cleared his throat.

"That, uh, just slipped out…"

Salazar said nothing. He bowed his head slightly so that his dark bangs covered most of his face. He wanted to rip Saddler's throat out for making a comment like that… but what if he was right? What if God has punished his parents by smiting them, and Salazar had been punished by losing them?

_I'm getting enough punishment having to listen to this idiot ramble on… _Salazar half-mused to himself. He mumbled to the floor, all of it a lie,

"It's alright…"

"I can help you, you know." Saddler said quietly.

"With what?'

"I can help you, if you help me. I can help you atone for this horrible sin that has been passed down in your bloodline."

Salazar said nothing.

"Because I am the leader of Los Illuminados; if you help me, I can help you." Saddler said again.

"I don't want your help."

"Salazar--"

"Did I stutter?" Salazar lifted his head and glared at Saddler.

"I said I don't want it."

Saddler heaved a sigh and allowed his disappointment to show.

"You're a stubborn one. Fine, burn in the eternal fires of hell; it's not _my_ family who's dammed."

He grinned inwardly when he saw how that statement affected the teen. Breaking him down was harder than he thought it was going to be, but it was getting easier. He was learning that this child understood one thing- fear.

"…get out." Salazar whispered.

"You know where to find me, my boy." Saddler said softly and lingered a moment.

"I didn't mean to offend you; my intentions were only for your best interest."

When the boy said nothing, he left. Walking down the long hallway and glancing around, getting his bearings and admiring the artwork. He felt peeved that he had not completed what he came here to do, but he was willing to give it time.

Saddler had the events planned out in his head: fear of eternal damnation would turn over into guilt, Salazar would need a trusted official on the matter and Saddler knew that the teen was too withdrawn and stubborn to talk about it with anyone until it was eating him away inside. Afterwards, since his most trust servant would not be useful in this situation, there would be only one person the teen could turn to, and then Saddler would have him.

He chuckled quietly.

_It's so simple, it should be a sin. Ha, I made a funny…_

_o0o0o0o_

Salazar slid down in the chair and shifted his position until his back was resting against the chair and he was, once again, lounging. There was a tight nagging in his stomach.

"Just what I need…" he mumbled bitterly. Plagas, Illuminados, hellfire… just more he needed on his already full to bursting mind.

He resembled a rag doll, just sitting in the chair as though all life had been drained of him. Every now and then he would take a few deep breaths to try and calm the tempest of guilt churning his stomach, but only that worked for so long. He didn't want to trouble Don with any of what Saddler had said, but it was really starting to get to him. The more he sat there and thought about it, the sicker he felt.

_o0o0o0o_

"Leaving so soon?" Don asked Saddler.

"Yes, I forgot I have a few duties to attend to. Service is being held tonight, and I already have the odds set against me." He smirked. Don made no attempt to smile.

"What did you and master Ramon talk about?"

"Excuse me?"

"It does not often take one a half an hour to go to the restroom, of which are over there, sir." Don pointed to the hall that was opposite the one Saddler had gone down.

"Well?"

"Just chatting. Nothing of interest."

"I'm sure." Though Don's tone was light, his look was dark and skeptical.

"You must understand… it is very queer for a man your age, priest or no, to just show up here randomly and have a chat with someone of whom you've never met before."

"You overanalyze this." Saddler said, a bite in his tone.

"Better to overanalyze than to under-analyze." Don retorted and held the door open for Saddler. This was not out of politeness, it was a mock gesture; a polite way of telling him to 'get the hell out'.

Saddler said nothing and left. Don closed the door behind him and left to go find his master.

_o0o0o0o_

Ramon had leaned forward so that his arms rest on the desk. He had his head down and was using his arms as a pillow. His mind was unwilling to think for him, and his stomach had grown more painful and nagging. There was a sudden warmth and a slight heaviness on the top of his head.

"Are you alright, sir?"

"Sure." he lied.

"What did you and Osmund talk about?"

"Nothing… nothing," He said again and pushed himself away from the desk. He looked very sullen; not like himself at all.

"Nothing important."

"Are you sure?"

"Yeah… Don…?"

"Sir?" He asked. It was very rare that Salazar would address him by his first name… actually he hardly addressed him at all.

"How did my parents die?"

"…what brings this--"

"Just answer me."

"A freak fire, sir. No one knows how it was started. They were attending a masquerade and the auditorium caught on fire. You were not there because you were in bed with measles." Don peered down at him. This had something to do with Saddler, that was apparent.

"I was just curious." Salazar whispered.

What if Saddler _was_ right?

"Would you like something to eat, sir? The chef is always taking orders."

"Not hungry…" He shook his head and stared out the window.

"Do you plan on going for a walk tonight?"

"…no. I think I'll turn in early." Salazar added and forced a small smile. He rose from his chair, Don backing up so as to not crowd him. Ramon felt better with someone else in the room, perhaps that was because it took his mind off the guilt.

"Not now, though. It's still daylight. Who ever heard of sleeping while the sun was still awake?"

Don smiled softly; his master was trying hard to cover up whatever it was that was bothering him.

"I think I'll take you up on your ice cream offer."

"Ice cream it is then, sir."

**End chapter 4**

**(A/N): **Next chapter, you get even more of Saddler's opinions, Mendez makes his appearance again, and some depression, and theeeeen it all falls into place. I might go back and edit this chapter, I'm not sure.

Thanks for the reviews. (:


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter 5**

It was only five in the evening, though the dreadful overcast made it feel closer to midnight. There was a toss, then a turn, the motions repeated again only in more rapid motion, and then he would awaken, his mouth dry, body trembling, and bangs matted to his sweaty forehead. Ramon pushed aside the covers and swung his legs over the bed. He slid down until he felt his feet hit the soft carpet and he treaded over to the window.

His first reaction was to open it and allow the cool afternoon air fill the room, but, instead, he sat down in the familiar chair again. This time, he had not seen his parents' death, only his own. Several times over, and each being more horrible than the last. He was thankful he did not talk in his sleep, otherwise Don may become more worried about him than he already was.

The stone of guilt was rubbing raw patches against his stomach, as was the cat of curiosity clawing at his back; two times already today had he vomited and his entire body ached. He was so exhausted from not sleeping nights passed and the guilt being piled on top of it was becoming unbearable. He wished he would finally collapse and become unconscious for a while so he could at least get some sleep…

Saddler's words were affecting him, gnawing at him, always in the back of his mind. They were in his subconscious, hence the new additions to his collection of night terrors. He had seen himself, pyjama'd as he is now, being cornered by these… horrible monstrosities that only sought revenge; they sought the blood of every person in the Salazar family to be spilled onto the dirt where it so belonged. Each time they grew more terrifying and prolonged his suffering, but he would always wake up before the final breath was taken.

Ramon sighed and rested his arms on the table, and then resting his head on his folded arms, he used them as a pillow. Why couldn't he have less traumatic night terrors? Perhaps being chased by a giant bowl of strawberry ice cream. He could deal with that, but death…

"I suppose ice cream could always kill you…" He reasoned. _Death by strawberry… ridiculous. _

There was a peck on his window, followed by another, and another, and soon an entire symphony was being conducted by the raindrops that plinked against his window. It was soothing, like a lullaby being sang by Mother Nature. That was what he always viewed the rain as, Mother Nature's lullaby. It was one of the few things that put him at full peace.

Then there was a crash of thunder, followed by a bolt of lightning that ripped through the darkness of the overcast clouds. He twitched at the unexpected brightness that filled the room, then took in a breath, held it a moment, and released it shakily. Ramon straightened suddenly; he couldn't take this anymore.

o0o0o0o

"It rains here more than any other part of Spain. " Saddler sighed.

"Location."

"_Discuple_?"

"It's where we're located. Something to do with the mountain range and rivers… all the rain crosses over us before hitting anywhere else."

"So this area basically sucks all the rain from the clouds."

"I guess you could put it that way…"

"You could make the roads more travel friendly if you paved them with concrete."

Bitores glanced at Saddler, "Yes, let's just use that big sum of money we have lying around to fund it."

"It was just a suggestion." Saddler shrugged.

"We're also the poorest country in Spain." Mendez added before taking a swig of his bitter coffee.

"How so?"

"We refuse to convert to a more modern currency, and we're fairly happy with the simplicity of things. We have the luxury of electricity, and we rarely even use that."

"You country people… Give you a dirt clod and you're overjoyed."

"You don't have the look of a city goer."

"I just grew up in a different area, is all."

"Where do you come from?"

"It's not important."

"If you came from somewhere around this area, then the villagers wouldn't be so harsh on you, you know." Mendez pointed out.

"They'll think what they think regardless, so why bother giving useless information?"

Bitores grunted and took another drink of his coffee. Another twenty minutes of silence passed.

The awkward silence was interrupted by a timid knock on the door, which changed over into a fierce pounding. Mendez put his coffee down and went to go answer the door. Saddler grinned and settled into his chair. He was certain who the visitor was.

Mendez opened the door and was taken aback at what he saw before him. Standing there, shuddering beneath the cold rain, was the pathetic figure of Ramon. The village chief stepped back to allow the teen through, who, head still bent, trudged quickly inside. His hair was put in a makeshift ponytail and left bedraggled by the rain. He glanced up at Bitores while he pushed his dripping bangs out of his eyes.

"Is… that priest here?" Ramon murmured uncomfortably.

The chief made a noise of disgruntlement; obviously, he hadn't the "warm fuzzies" for the priest. Against his better judgment, Bitores nodded with his solemn expression unchanged.

o0o0o0o

"Ah, Ramon. Have a seat. I'm sure to come out in this weather you must have something on your mind?" Osmund greeted him warmly.

Even though the house was fairly warm, Ramon was still shaking from the cold and pulled his coat tighter around his midsection. Mendez took notice and went to fetch him a towel.

Saddler studied Salazar's face briefly before stating, "You aren't sleeping well. Trouble at home, perhaps?"

Salazar finally forced his eyes to drift to the priest's face. Just looking at the man made him sick; that strawberry ice cream felt like it was trying to come back up as milk.

"Why would you tell me such horrible things?"

"Ah, you are referring to the reality check I gave you a few hours ago?" Saddler leaned forward in his chair slightly.

"Because of you I can't sleep…" Salazar said bitterly.

"I didn't know I was that irresistible." Osmund chuckled.

The teen's lip curled in disgust and he sighed in annoyance, "I'm in no mood to play mindfuck games."

Mendez hesitated before placing the towel around Ramon's shoulders. The boy had apparently picked up some new words from one of the servants.

"Alright then. Speak." Saddler said demandingly.

"What you say doesn't make sense…"

"You've just gotten your facts crossed somewhere." the man shrugged, "Either you heard wrong or you were given the wrong information."

"My father was a brilliant man and he did not get his facts crossed." Salazar snarled.

Saddler blinked, "If you are quite finished…… documents recorded over long periods of time have a tendency to become misconstrued, inaccurate. Much like a tall-tale or a fable. I'm sure your mother told you some of those, yes? At one--"

Ramon opened his mouth to interrupt, but Saddler beat him to it.

"I am speaking." He said with the authorative tone a father would use when disciplining their child. Salazar glowered at him and folded his arms over his chest.

"…at one time they were completely true, but being around for hundreds of years people began to mishear or add a new twist to something, stretching the truth, and moulding it to their own liking. It's like a stereotype: they all were based on fact." the man finished.

"What does _that _have to do with anything?" Ramon grumbled.

"Everything and nothing. What I'm saying is your father read inaccurate information. Nothing against your father, he was merely misinformed."

Saddler smirked inwardly when Salazar made no motion to argue.

It made sense… but…

"Then why were the sealed, hm? Tell me that." Ramon challenged.

"Why else do you think? They posed a threat in some way. When humans do not understand something, they often seek to destroy it rather than learn about it. Your ancestors who sealed the Plagas did not understand what they were doing. And then you know the rest after than, Roman Catholicism became the big deal and so on and so forth."

"We're not a bunch of idiots." Salazar was referring to his family tree, "there was another reason."

"And it was?" Saddler feigned interest.

"What?"

"You must know the other reason for you to be so confident in your speaking?"

"No, I thought--"

"No, you didn't. Lesson one: think before you speak."

"I came here for help! All you're doing is pissing me off!" Salazar said angrily.

There were more of those lovely English curse words. Mendez decided to speak up,

"I think you two should resolve this later. Neither of you are in your right state of mind--"

"He just insulted me and my family, and you expect me to be a good little boy and ignore it?!" he shouted in hysteria.

"Leave the boy, Bitores." Saddler turned his attention back to Ramon, "I appologise."

"It's not accepted."

The priest shrugged. That had not gone quite as he had planned, but he could worry about fixing it later.

"We'll resolve the matter another time."

"I want to resolve it now."

"Hnph. When I try and explain something to you, you go off on a tantrum."

Ramon pursed his lips and his ears grew hot with embarrassment.

"I don't understand what you have to do in all of this…"

"Then why didn't you just say so?" Saddler got up from his seat and strode over to examine the small bookshelf, full to bursting with thick books. Salazar glanced up at Mendez; he didn't even know anyone in this village could read.

"Ah, yes…" Osmund selected a book from the top shelf and skimmed through its pages.

"Lots of pictures."

Saddler brought the still open book over to Salazar and instructed him to hold it. The boy looked at the picture and grimaced. There was something emerging from the person's head. Saddler circled the boy while he talked.

"That is my personal book. I have been a follower of the Illuminados faith ever since brother, my caretaker during my adolescent years, stumbled across it in his research."

"That's impossible. All the records and documents are kept within the estate." Salazar cleared his throat and resumed looking at the grotesque picture. It looked so oddly familiar…

"So you're not as ignorant as you led me to believe? That is good. I'm not certain how he came across it, but that's not important. What is important _is _you understand what the Illuminados stand for. We who walk in the path of the light are harmonious. That is the only goal of Los Illuminados: to promote harmony throughout the world. Las Plagas enabled Los Illuminados to obtain that wish, but your family, the holders of the Plaga, over the years their views became warped and they thought they were brainwashing people."

"Well, they were." Salazar scoffed.

"Not really." Saddler continued his slow circling of Salazar.

"Explain… and stop that, you're making me dizzy."

Osmund sighed and went over to the window to look out at the pouring rain.

"Does your uncle know you're here?"

"_Excuse_ me?" Salazar looked up from the book.

"That man I spoke with earlier." Saddler blinked.

"He's not a relative."

"I just assumed, being how protective he was."

"He's a butler." Ramon flipped through a few of the pages, more horrible images. He made a face and closed the book, letting it rest on his lap.

"Strange."

"He's been with our family a long time. It doesn't matter, we're off subject."

"Do you have any family at all?"

Salazar made no effort to respond. He looked down at the book in his lap and his face froze. He ran his hand over its bumpy, crimson, uneven surface.

"Where did you get this book, again?"

"It found me."

Salazar narrowed his eyes, but said nothing.

Saddler was watching Ramon out of the reflection in the window.

"What bothers you now?"

"You keep changing the subject." Ramon said simply and continued to examine the book.

"Las Plagas do not brainwash people, Ramon. Persons who learn to live with the Plagas still have complete control over their own actions, only they lose the drive to do certain things, such as murder and theft. They lose their urge to do wrong, hence the promotion of unity. You know… you could help promote unity."

"Why would I want to help them? I have my own problems to deal with." the teen said bitterly.

"They are the cause of most of your problems, no?"

"…sometimes."

Saddler nodded mutely in understanding.

No one said anything for a long period of time. Mendez had taken the book from Ramon and was flipping through the pages. Every now and then he would run across something particularly interesting, and you could tell this because he would shift his position or stroke his beard, like he was thinking.

Ramon was in a drowsy daze, like when you first wake up and didn't get enough sleep. He yawned and closed his eyes for a moment, to block out the flickering candle light.

When he opened his eyes again Saddler was gone and Mendez was putting on his greying overcoat.

The village chief noticed he was awake, "You dozed off. Osmund left about ten minutes ago to conduct the church service."

"Then where are you going?"

"To make sure no stray pitchforks find their way through his forehead." Mendez said lightly.

"Hmm… maybe you could look the other way for once." Salazar entertained the thought of Saddler twitching on the floor with a manure-covered pitchfork pinning him to the ground.

Mendez took a more serious tone, "You know it will be hard for you to leave the village tonight."

"I'll just sneak out while everyone's at the service."

"Hmm…. Then I'd wait about a half an hour longer. You know how slow some of them are."

Ramon nodded. He wasn't worried about the older folk, he just didn't like their children.

On the other hand, he didn't want to hang around here longer than necessary.

"I'm taking that with me." He added and pointed to the book with the red cover. Mendez picked it up from the table.

"Why?"

"Because its mine."

The giant allowed his confusion to show.

"He took it from my estate when he visited." Salazar sighed.

_So he went through with it… _Mendez thought to himself and shrugged.

"Give Don my regards."

With that, Mendez lumbered up the stairs and, as Ramon assumed, made his way to the small church.

o0o0o0o

Ramon busied himself with reading the red leather book. He had lost track of time and realised he had been reading for over two hours. He glanced out the window; it was pitch black so he wouldn't be seen if anyone had left service early.

He shoved the book in his inner coat pocket. Ramon had moved to the better-lit upstairs, so all he had to do was sneak out the door and let the darkness cover him.

Nothing ever goes as we plan it.

Salazar stuck his head out the door and scanned the area. There was no one outside because of the drizzle and sinking mud puddles. He wrinkled his nose at the horrible smell when he stepped outside. It was so bad to him that he had to cover his nose and breath into his sleeve.

His shoes squished against the thick manure-infused mud, and there were times where he almost either A) lost his shoe or B) lost his shoe and fell over in the process.

It seemed like he had been trekking across the stinking mud forever, until he bumped into something.

Ramon let out a grunt of surprise and glared up hatefully as to what was blocking his way home. His face fell and he wished the mud would swallow him right there.

"Ay, what the…? Ohh." A flash of lightening allowed Salazar to see the figure's face just in time to catch their smirk.

"I was just about finished herding the chickens into the coop, and look what I find."

The figure roughly grabbed Salazar's arm and jerked him inside a building. Soft hay crunched beneath their feet; it was obviously a barn. It was well lit with lanterns.

Ramon's heart sank into his stomach when he saw all the children in the village were in here, as there was not enough room in the church for everyone.

"Look what I found." The figure dragging Ramon said triumphantly. A few of the older boys looks up from their card game and a smirk spread across their faces.

"You must've had your nose to the ground, trying to find him." One of them taunted.

"He probably stepped on him by accident!" Another chimed in.

"Yeah, how could you overlook that shrill voice?!"

"Aw, look, he's blushing!"

"I think you've gotta lover, Luis."

The figure, Luis, grimaced. He slung his arm around Salazar's shoulder, like they were friends or something.

"I told you to stay away from us, freak…" Luis whispered dangerously in Salazar's ear before calling to one of his friends,

"Oy, Carlos, c'mere. I need help lifting this piggy into the manure bin."

Ramon gave a squeak of panic and tried to jerk away from Luis, but his grip was tight around his shoulders. Carlos, one of the boys who had been making fun of him, eagerly pushed some of the other kids out of the way to get to Ramon and Luis.

He wasted no time grabbing Salazar's legs from under him. Luis held onto the shorter teen's arms. Some of the older children were cheering and laughing, as were most of the younger kids.

"Count of three?" Luis grinned widely. Carlos nodded.

_Uno…_

Salazar thrashed and tried to kick Carlos in his stomach. Luis noticed and applied pressure to the sensitive point in Salazar's neck to detain him. He cringed and couldn't focus on kicking through the stinging pain in his collar bone.

_Dos_…

Ramon found himself no longer swinging back and forth, but being tossed in the air. He landed with a shriek in the foul smelling substance. He was completely submerged in it.

He could hear Luis and the other's laughing. Salazar refused to breath, because he knew if he did, he would vomit, and that would just further humiliate him. His face was the colour of red apple and his eyes were rimmed with tears of frustration and humility as he tried to climb out of the bin. His hands slipped off the side and he fell back in the manure, earning another wave of laughs.

Ramon had pure malice burning in his core as he clambered out successfully the second time. He fell on the ground and hay clung to his sticky body. A stray tear managed to squeeze through his tightly clenched eyes.

"Aw, he's crying, Luis." Carlos said in fake sympathy. Luis felt a small pang of guilt under the joy. Sure enough, Salazar's shoulders began to shake with silent sobs.

Several of the children stopped laughing.

Ramon tightened his fists. He promised he would never let Luis get to him enough to make him cry, at least not in front of them… He wanted to choke Luis, watch him turn blue, hear him beg for his pathetic life…

Someone in the room made another joke and everyone was laughing again. He couldn't hear what it was; all he could hear were his own heartbeat and their ignorant laughs.

He opened his eyes and the once captive tears escaped with no trouble. His eyes met with Luis', and his smug grin that took up half his face. Salazar glared at him so harshly that Luis was forced to look away, but played it off that he was shaking his head in disgust.

Ramon clambered to his feet and scurried out of the barn, and out of the village. He only stopped when he could no longer hear them laughing at him. The teen coughed and gagged, choking on his sobs as he stopped to catch his breath and catching scent of the manure on his body.

He felt a new level of hatred for them. And to think, Saddler expected him to _save_ those mongrels… those maggots… Saddler… the thieving…

"The book…" Salazar fumbled around in his coat pocket. The book was still there, but it would be ruined by now. He looked up at the sky and closed his eyes as the rain began to fall more heavily.

"Why do you hate me?" he managed to choke out. Then screamed it at the black sky.

Why him? He never did anything, and everything bad that could happen to him did. Then there were people like Luis…

Illuminados, Plagas, or anything else didn't matter right now. The only things he could be bothered with right now were Luis suffering…

and a shower.


End file.
